


The Doctor is in

by CommanderPearse1916 (taps_sanctuary86)



Series: The Doctor is in [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Beyond - Fandom, Star Trek: Into Darkness - Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Character, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Mentor/Protégé, POV Leonard McCoy, Pining, Pregnancy, Sexual Content, age-gap, protective McCoy, public deisplays of affection, slow-build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6294517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taps_sanctuary86/pseuds/CommanderPearse1916
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jennifer Watson, a young 21 year-old is training to become a nurse for Starfleet’s USS Enterprise, has fallen heads over heal for Leonard McCoy, a recent divorcee, with a young daughter.<br/>In the beginning, Jim decides to thrust McCoy and Jennifer into an awkward relationship; but during their first mission with the Enterprise, McCoy may have developed a strong and mutual attraction to his young friend and vows to protect her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue; Enter McCoy

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Male/Female pairing in a long time.  
> I usually write homosexual relationships.  
> The movie and book-based story will be mostly in McCoy’s pov, with a few of Jennifer’s pov. I will be adding a few scenes to make it a little different.  
> And Jennifer will be replacing Nurse Chapel.  
> Also, Jennifer is not a Mary-Sue. She is a mix between Jennifer Lawrence's Katniss Everdeen along with the personality that I gave her. 
> 
> Next chapter will be longer, I promise.

Florid-face and clearly upset, a slightly older gentleman was being forced out of the bathroom by one of the shuttle’s crew. He looked about thirty, and his steady litany of complaint was tinged with an accent that identified his origin as southeastern, North America.

“Are you people, _deaf_?” the objector was loudly declaiming. “I told you. I don’t need a doctor, dammit. I _am_ a doctor!”

Gently, but firmly, the member of the shuttle’s crew was wrestling the man forward. “You need to find a seat. Sir, for your own safety, sit down, or I will make you sit down.”

“I had one,” the man insisted vociferously. “In the bathroom, with no ports. I suffer from aviaphobia, which in case, you don’t understand big words, means ‘fear of flying’.”

Wrenching the complainer forcefully, the tight-lipped crewmember pushed him in the direction of one of the few remaining seats. As this happened to be right next to Kirk; the frustrated protestor found himself dropping down beside the casually clad younger man. Muttering to himself, the dyspeptic newcomer adjusted his straps. When he finished, he gripped both armrests so tightly, his knuckles went white.

He finally took note of the unashamedly inquisitive passenger seated beside him. The greeting he offered was unconventional. “I might throw up on you.”

Kirk replied pleasantly. “Nice to meet you too. You wouldn’t be the first time someone’s thrown up on me.” He tapped on one of his own armrest. “I think these things are pretty safe. Starfleet’s been using this model for a long time.”

“Don’t pander to me, kid,” his new neighbor growled. “One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. Unpredicted solar flares might strike when we leave the magnetosphere and cook us in our seats. Wait till you’re sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles, see if you’re still so relaxed when you’re bleeding from your eye sockets…”

Sensing that the ghoulish recitation of potential physiological disasters was liable to continue until they reached their destination, Kirk tried to put a stop to it.

“Well, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in _space_.”

His travelling companion subsided a little. “Yeah, well – my ex-wife took _everything_ in the divorce. You’d think that a species that’s succeeded in reaching the stars, could have managed by now to devise a more equitable method for dividing communal assets. Sometimes, I think the Klingons have the right idea. Anyway, I’ve got nowhere to go, but up.”

Smiling, the younger man extended a hand. “Jim Kirk.”

The exasperated physician eyed him warily, then nodded, and took the proffered hand. “Leonard McCoy.”

“Took _everything_?”

McCoy nodded again. “Yeah – everything of mine, including the planet. All I got left is my bones, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she put a lien out on that.”

The whine at the stern rose to a fevered pitch. The shuttle rocked slightly, rose to a predetermined height, and then swerved. As it cleared the construction and administration complex, it accelerated rapidly, shoving its passengers back into their protective padding.

After talking to his new friend, Jim Kirk, McCoy felt a strangeness of calamity growing inside him. While still afraid of flying, he was a bit calmer and he settled himself back into his seat. He was leaving behind everything he had ever known; every vestige and reminder of his life to this point in time.

Maybe Starfleet wouldn’t be so bad after all. Leonard McCoy was only thirty years old - he had time to rebuild his life and to start over.  


	2. Jennifer finally has the courage.

**_3 years later…_ **

“Good morning girls. The time is 0700 in the morning,” replied the gentle voice of the computer, as the lights switched on to half percent.

Normally, Jennifer Watson was a night owl and not a morning person. But ever since her best friend, Joanna Mason and she started their schooling at Starfleet Academy, 3 years ago, she actually enjoyed getting up early; Joanna…not so much.

Today was a Friday, one of her favorite days of the week, and not because it was the weekend, far from it; it was her nursing classes in the afternoon that made her so energetic for the entire day. Jennifer hopped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, and removed her nightgown. As she got in the shower, she smiled to herself. Sometimes she would get so jittery during their history class in the morning; Joanna nearly had to sit on her lap just to keep her still.

After her ten minute shower, Jennifer stepped out and dried herself off. She then slipped her Starfleet uniform on and looked at herself in the mirror.

Jennifer Watson, or Jenni, was 21 years old, had an athletics’ body (her two favorite sports is archery and fencing), and she had slightly pale skin. She also has black, shoulder-length hair that she usually kept in a single braid, laid across her right shoulder. She nodded to herself and left the bathroom.

Finally, the smell of breakfast roused her best friend out of bed. She sat at their small kitchen table with a plate of bacon and two crescent rolls and a glass of orange juice from the replicator. She smirked at Joanna as she got her lazy ass out of bed.

“Computer, time,” she asked, in her North Carolina accent.

“The time is now 073o.”

Fifteen minutes later, Joanna joined her at the table with a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk. “You know, even after three years here, I still don’t get it,” Joanna started conversationally. Jennifer cocked her head.

“What don’t you get?” she asked innocently.

“About going to Med school in the afternoon and be so damned excited about it. I mean, who would want to spend nine hours in med school…a week? Doesn’t it get boring?” Jennifer shrugged.

“Not really. I mean, lectures are my favorite part of the class,” she said with a straight face; after she deliberately waited for Joanna to take a bite of cereal. Joanna half-choked, half-swallowed her breakfast.

“What the hell?” she gasped, “are you freaking kidding me?” Jennifer laughed.

“Nope, I’m being dead serious.”

After recovering from her coughing fit, Joanna studied her friend for a few minutes. As far as she was concerned, Jenni was never a morning person, nor did she enjoy her morning classes. But after starting here at the Academy, 3 years ago, and into a couple of months, she seemed more cheerful than ever. Joanna always knew she wanted to be a nurse for Starfleet, but that wasn’t quite it. Something or someone has unknowingly changed her. _For the better,_ Joanna mended.

“Alright, Nurse Watson, spit it out. Who is it?” she demanded. Jennifer looked up.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you. You were never a morning person in high school. But ever since we started here at the academy, someone’s changed you for the better, so who is it?” Joanna explained.

“Whoever said it was a person? Maybe I just really like my nurse classes.”

Joanna sighed. “I guess I’ll have to find out for myself, since you refuse to tell me.”

“How? You have Engineering Class this afternoon.” Joanna reached over and patted her friend’s head with affection.

“You know I have ways of finding out, Nurse Watson.”

**ST**

Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays have always been Jennifer’s favorite days, even before the academy, and even Joanna knew why then. In high school, Jenni had picked an elective for the Theatre course which ran for an hour and a half at the last class period of the day.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Jenni still enjoyed those particular days. And once again, who enjoyed nine hours of Medical school a week? Well, Jenni did, apparently. And since her dream was to work as a nurse on a starship…well, there was a lot to learn. Of course, Joanna didn’t know the real reason why Jenni was so jittery in the morning of those days.

It was because of _him_. Everything about him just made her weak in the knees. Of course, she wasn’t a hopeless romantic school girl either. She actually paid attention in class, particularly when he would lecture something that had to deal with a Medical situation, which he was doing right at this moment.

He had Georgian tanned skin, his body language was a bit stiff, making him appear to have a rough exterior look, complete with a deep southern accent. Jennifer had deduced, early on, that he has a hard time trusting people and has a bad-ass attitude; because of his recently ugly divorce. But Jennifer had been watching him for the past 3 years and got passed his roughness; she knew that he really wasn’t all that bad.

Jennifer had been concentrating on taking her notes; she didn’t even hear the bell ring to signal the end of class.

Leonard McCoy was at the front of the classroom, gathering his stuff and talking to the head teacher of the class, when he noticed that same young nurse-in-training with the single braid still sitting at her seat, looking over her notes. He shook his head with amusement. That girl had some dedication in her. He excused himself from the head teacher to talk to Watson. It was high time he actually made acquaintances with her.

“Miss Watson?” said a man’s voice into Jennifer’s ear.

She snapped back attention and realized with a start that class was over. She could tell that the man who had spoken to her had a deep southern accent, which could only mean one thing. She looked up and instantly regretted it. The man who haunted her every waking thought was standing in front of her with an amused look.

“Er, yes?” she asked, trying hard not to blush. He smirked.

“You’re not planning on spending the night, here, are you?” McCoy asked. Jennifer quickly glanced around, seeing that everyone else had already left the classroom and it was only the two of them.

“Oh right, thanks Doc,” she says, standing up and quickly gathered up her things. They both started to walk towards the door themselves.

“So, are you always the last one to leave, or am I just starting to realize that now?” McCoy asked, as they headed out of the Medical building and towards the main Academy building.

It was a clear, warm, and sunny afternoon by the bay. Students and staff walking everywhere on campus.

Jennifer blushed. “Oh, um, it’s usually on Fridays, that I always end up being the last one to leave.”

“I see.”

And yes, he did see. He’s pretended not to notice, but he had a sneaky suspicious that when she was the last to leave, it was usually after he gave a lecture. He was smart enough to know, that maybe she was harboring some feelings towards him. He decided to put his theory to the test.

“So, you know we have to pick partners for our next assignment,”Leonard McCoy started. Jennifer blushed again. _Oh no, I hope he’s not asking what I think he’s going to ask_.

“We do?” she asked, feeling hot again. _Damn, why did he make her feel this way_?

“Yeah, so I was wondering if you wanted to work together?” McCoy asked.

Shit. She knew she couldn’t refuse his offer. “I…” she hesitated for a second, but decided, what the hell? This could be the chance of a lifetime to work with Leonard McCoy, her favorite teacher and only crush in the entire Academy. “Sure, I’d love too,” she answered, smiling and blushing a bit.

McCoy gave her a genuine smile that made her weak in the knees. As far as she knew, he never smiled like that to anyone. But now it was more thing for Jennifer to fall for him.

“Great. I guess we haven’t really formally introduced ourselves, since we only see each other in class. I’m Leonard McCoy; but you can call me Len, while we’re outside of class,” Len replied, handing his hand out for Jennifer to take. She smiled and accepted his hand.

“Jennifer Watson, but you can call me Jenni,” she replied. Then she dropped the bomb. “Are you doing anything later?”

“Nope. Most likely my roommate’s picked up another girl for the night. What about you?”

“Do you want to get a drink later?”

“Sure, sounds like a plan. Do you want me too-.”

“Hey Bones! Wait up!”

McCoy groaned and the two of them paused their walking to let the loud newcomer to join them. “What do you want, Jim? I’m a bit busy, here.”

The young man with the blonde hair took notice of his friend’s companion. She was well…quite pretty. “Who’s your friend?” he asked.

“Jennifer Watson, one of my classmates,” McCoy answered, stepping closer to Jennifer’s side. His little action did not go unnoticed by Jim.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Watson. I’m Jim Kirk. I would ask you out, but I already have plans for tonight.”

Jennifer shrugged. “Sorry, but you’re not my type.”

McCoy smirked. _Wow, I think she’s the first to refuse an offer from Jim Kirk_.

“And who is your type? A grumpy, middle-aged doctor?” Jim guessed.

“Hey, I’m not old or grumpy! I just have experience,” McCoy defended himself. Jennifer blushed. Was she that obvious?

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Bones is a good guy, once you get past his attitude. Just do me a favor, and don’t break his heart,” Jim replied, sincerely.

“Jim, don’t. You’re making her feel uncomfortable,” McCoy muttered.

“I have no intention too,” Jennifer hesitantly replied. She risked a glance at McCoy to catch him rolling his eyes.

“So what did you want, besides trying to play matchmaker for us?” McCoy asked, feeling a bit irritated at his friend.

“Oh, I’m taking the test again.” McCoy did a double take.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Yeah, tomorrow morning and I want you there.”

“You know, I’ve got better things to do then to watch you embarrass yourself for a third time. I’m a doctor, Jim. I’m busy.”

“Bones, it doesn’t bother you that no one’s passed the test?”

“Jim, it’s the _Koboyashi Maru_! No one passes the test, and no one goes for a second, let alone thirds,” McCoy argued.

Jim clapped his hands once. "I gotta study." And just like that, Jim was off.

McCoy sighed.

“Study my ass,” McCoy muttered, but just enough that Jennifer heard him and blushed deep red.

 _He does have a nice ass_ , she thought quietly to herself. “What was that all about?” she wondered out loud, after recovering quickly from her embarrassing thought.

McCoy shrugged. “Sorry about Jim. He can be a bit of a flirt and even though we’re best friends, he can also be an ass sometimes. Do you still want to go out later?”

Jennifer smiled. “Couldn’t hurt. Besides, I guess we ought to learn more about each other, don’t you think?”

For a split second, McCoy looked a little uneasy, but he remembered what Jenni was talking about. “Look, Jenni, if it made you uncomfortable the way Jim played match maker for us, then I can totally understand.”

“Oh please, don’t. I would love too. Besides, I’m not dating anyone. If anything, I’d love to start a relationship with you. I – oh crap…” Jennifer froze, after she realized that she just confessed her love for McCoy. She turned beet red and hid her face.

 _So I_ was right, McCoy thought. _It wouldn’t hurt to give us a try. Although, I would like to go slow, just to see how it goes._ He gently took a hold of her chin, so that she would have no choice but to look into his eyes.

“Hey, I’ll come by and pick you up at seven. Consider it as our first date. Does that sound good?”

“Sure, that way I can introduce you to my best friend. She’s been dying to know who’s changed me,” Jennifer answered.

“I hope I didn’t change you too much.”

“Not too much,” she promised, “but we’ll save that conversation for the bar.”

“Okay, seven it is then,” he confirmed; then he leaned over and quickly kissed her cheek. McCoy then nodded to her and left for the opposite direction.

Jennifer stood a little longer, watching his form disappear into the crowd. Absentmindedly, she placed her hand on her cheek, where she could still feel the ghost of his kiss, her face flushed. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn they were just flirting with each other…not that she was complaining.

Looks like things were about to get better from here on out.


	3. A Test, a Trial, and McCoy's Dilemma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things are moving along. Updates will be quicker, I promise.

The communications officer’s tone was more than bored; Uhura sounded almost resentful. “We are receiving a distress signal from the _Koboyashi Maru_. The ship has lost power and is stranded. Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them.”

Whipping around in the command chair; James T. Kirk hastened to correct her. “Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them – _Captain_.”

She glared at him sharply, and then turned back to her console. From another station, McCoy recited in a resigned monotone. “Klingon vessels have entered the Neutral Zone and they are firing upon us.”

At this point in the simulation cadet responses varied from panicked, to confuse, to nonexistent. On this occasion, Kirk succeeded in providing one that insofar as any present could recall, was entirely original. Not necessarily sensible, not even wholly coherent, but original.

“That’s okay.”

His fellow cadets gawked at him. Even Uhura turned from the communications station. It was left to McCoy to comment.

“It’s _okay_?”

From the command chair, Kirk waved diffidently. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“Two more Klingon warbirds decloaking and targeting our ship,” McCoy responded from his station. He glanced towards the command chair, occupied by a friend who possibly lost his mind. “I don’t suppose this is a problem either?”

Kirk let himself slide a little lower in the chair. “Nah.”

The cadet manning tactical reported in. “They’re firing, _Captain_. All of them.”

Kirk nodded in understanding. “Alert medical bay to prepare to receive all crew members from the damaged ship.”

“And how do you expect us to rescue them,” Uhura pointed out sharply, “when we’re being surrounded by Klingons, _Captain_.”

Briefly, he sounded like someone in command. “Alert medical.”

Visibly annoyed, she complied.

“We’re being hit,” McCoy reported, “shields at sixty percent.”

“I understand.”

 _How have I let Jim talk me into taking the test again, when I could be hanging out with Jennifer and getting to know her better?_ McCoy found himself wondering. “Should we at least, oh I dunno – fire back?”

Kirk’s brow furrowed as if he were deep in thought. “Mmm – no,” he replied.

“Of course not,” McCoy muttered under his breath. “What an absurd notion. Forgive me for bringing it up.”

Instrument consoles suddenly went berserk and died. Information that should have been transmitted was not. Commands to the simulation consoles below died aborning. Perplexed monitors and baffled instructors struggled to redirect, reassign, and reboot important instrumentation, all to no avail.

Then, as abruptly and inexplicably as every monitor had gone blank and every console died, lights came back on, monitors winked back to life, and telltales resumed spitting out information.

Below, Kirk continued to relax in the command chair, waiting. The report he anticipated was not long in coming.

“The _Koboyashi Maru_ is still in distress,” Uhura reported, “but the Klingons have stopped firing. They are dropping their shields and powering down their weapons!” The astonishment in her voice verged on the childlike.

“Imagine that.” Kirk finally straightened in the chair. “Then I guess we might as well respond. Arm protons. Prepare to fire on the Klingon warbirds.”

“Jim,” McCoy reported, “their shields are still up.”

Kirk turned innocent eyes on his friend. “Are they?”

McCoy looked back at his console. Blinking, he leaned as close to it as he could without losing his focus. “Uh – no…they’re not,” he finally admitted.

Kirk nodded in satisfaction. “Fire on all enemy ships. One proton each should do. No reason to waste munitions.”

“Yes – _yes sir_.” The tactical officer complied.

Unable to resist turning from their own instruments, every one of the cadets on deck momentarily put aside their individual assignments as they looked toward the screen unimpeded by shields, five proton torpedoes struck five Klingon warships head on. Each warbird exploded with satisfying brilliance.

As the resulting fragments filled the monitor, McCoy once more looked toward the command chair, only this time, he was smiling.

The simulation was not quite over. Kirk turned towards the communications station.

“Signal the _Koboyashi Maru_. Tell them they are now safe and their rescue is assured. Begin rescue of the stranded crew.” He glanced at the helmsman. “Bring us as close and arrange for shuttle transport at leisure, beginning with the most seriously wounded.”

As he lets his eyes rove around the simulation room, his gaze was met by a succession of flabbergasted stares.

“So, we’ve eliminated all enemy ships, no one board was injured, and the successful rescue of the _Koboyashi Maru_ crew is under way.” For the first time, he let his attention wander upward to the window of the administration room. “Anything else?”

**ST**

No one knew why the assembly had been called. It was unusual, but not unprecedented. Called from their Saturday afternoon weekend classes, hundreds of cadets streamed across the manicured lawns and free-poured walk-ways of the Academy campus.

It was a beautiful day, the towers of downtown San Francisco gleaming in a blue sky that had been cleared of fog by a light offshore breeze.

Both Jennifer and Joanna managed to catch up with McCoy and Kirk as they headed towards the assembly hall.

“Hey Len!” Jennifer called out, as they reached the doctor and his friend.

The male duo paused their walking and McCoy was able to pull Jenni in a quick hug. Jennifer then turned towards Kirk. “Jim, this is Joanna Mason, my best friend and roommate. Jo, this is Jim Kirk, Len’s friend,” Jennifer replied, introducing them.

“Nice to meet you, Joanna,” Jim replied.

“What’s all this about, anyway?” Joanna asked, as they continued to make their way.

“I made valedictorian,” Jim supplied boastfully. Jennifer glanced at McCoy for confirmation, but McCoy just shrugged. “I bet that’s what this is. Or they’re going to give me special notice for being the first cadet to solve the _Koboyashi_ scenario. Or they’re going to announce a commendation on top of the valedictorian award.”

McCoy regarded him with his usual jaundiced eye.

“You know you might be constipated, on account of you being so full of yourself. If you elevate yourself anymore, you risk breaking gravity and drifting off the planet. I don’t think even you can accomplish much in space without a ship.”

Jennifer giggled. Even though she’s only recently got to hang out with them, she enjoyed their friendly banter.

“You’re wrong, Bones. I don’t need a ship.” Kirk radiated confidence as the small group of them started up the steps leading to the assembly hall. “A simple spacesuit’ll do me.”

A doubtful McCoy shook his head. “Where will they ever find one big enough for your head?”

“C’mon, Bones. Don’t be jealous.”

The older man gaped at him. “Jealous? I’m not jealous of you. I’m expectant. I look forward to being able to write the first scientific paper who died from brain hemorrhaging due to a surplus of ego.”

“Fine with me.” Kirk winked at the doctor as they entered the building. “Just make sure I’m co-credited as the author.”

McCoy sighed deeply. “Jim, you’re incorrigible.”

“No, I’m not. We’re in the assembly hall. Let’s find some room down front.”

“Don’t you want to sit back so you can walk the entire length of the hall and bask for as long as possible in the glory you expect to receive?”

Kirk demurred as they entered the rapidly filling amphitheater. “Not a good idea. I might trip. Bad for thy image.”

“Trip over what? Your own teeth? You might even try keeping your mouth closed for a change.”

“Why?” Kirk asked innocently. “False modesty never did me any good.” When this time, his friend failed a reply, Kirk added. “Bones, you always have my permission, to speak your mind, even in the face my growing power. You too, ladies,” he added, with a wink towards them.

Jennifer and Joanna glanced at each other with a smile. _Nice for him to think of us as his friends_ , Jenni thought to herself. She might just be able to use that to her advantage one day. 

“Thanks,” McCoy replied wryly. “Just don’t forget that the one person on a starship who can relieve an officer of duty is the ship’s doctor. And that’s not you, Mister Omnipotent Farm Boy. That’s _me_.”

Kirk conceded the point as they searched the lower tier of seats for four of empty places. “And don’t forget the one person who can relieve the ship’s doctor.” McCoy frowned in puzzlement. Kirk let him stew a moment before reminding him. “The ship’s doctor’s ex-wife.”

McCoy moaned.

Joanna leaned over to her friend. “Are they always like this?” she whispered. Jennifer shrugged.

“I have a feeling, but I’ve only just met Jim yesterday.”

“Well, Jim might be a tad annoying, but I like him. I bet he was the one who threw you and McCoy into a relationship. About damn time too. You’ve been head over heels for that doctor for the last three years,” Joanna approved. Jennifer blushed deep red.

“Shut up, he’ll hear you,” Jennifer whispered harshly. Joanna smiled deviously.

“Who? McCoy or Jim? It’s about time McCoy knew he’s had a fan for the past three years.”

Jim stole a glance towards the girls as he caught the tail end of their conversation. _So Miss Watson’s had a crush on his friend for the past three years, huh? No wonder he didn’t stand a chance for her affection. This meant that McCoy’s already spoken for, even if he didn’t know it yet._ He might just use _that_ to his advantage.

Mutual discussion filled the amphitheater as cadets continued to arrive from distant corners of the campus. Every available opening at the Academy was filled; Starfleet constantly being in need of content trainees. Only when the exalted members of the Academy council began to arrive, did the conversations start to fade.

The Academy commandant, Admiral Richard Barnett, spoke crisply into the silence.

“James T. Kirk. Step forward.”

Kirk threw his friends, McCoy and the two girls a look that said “See?” as plainly as if he had said it out loud. Both Jennifer and McCoy rolled their eyes at the same time. Confident, beaming, he marched down onto the floor and halted in front of the stand.

“An incident has occurred,” Admiral Barnett began, “that concerns the entire student body. Academic immorality by one to an assault on us all; it will not be allowed to stand. Cadet Kirk, evidence has been submitted to this council suggesting you violated Regulation seventeen four-three pursuant to the Starfleet code of ethical conduct. Is there anything you care to say before we begin?”

It suddenly dawned on McCoy that his friend was on trial, at the same time Jennifer whispered out loud, just loud enough for McCoy and Joanna to hear: “he’s not getting an award, he’s on trial.”

Kirk did not falter. “Yes sir, I do. I believe I have the right under the same code of conduct to face my accuser directly.”

The commandant conferred briefly with the administer on his right, and then looked back. Not at Kirk, but someone in the audience. A figure rose. It was humanoid, but not human. At least, not entirely human.

The admiral continued. “Cadet Kirk, this is Commander Spock, one of our most distinguished graduates. He’s programmed the _Koboyashi Maru_ test for the last four years. And improved it considerably in the process. At least, it was regarded as improved until your last run-through threw many of the modifications into question.”

“Cadet Kirk,” the Vulcan’s voice deceptively controlled. “Much time was spent assessing relevant information following your recent taking of the test in question. Upon careful review it became clear that you activated a subroutine that had been embedded in the programming code, an insertion that somehow succeeded in evading all protective and resets thereby changing the conditions of the test.”

“Your point being?” Kirk responded austerely.

“In academic vernacular,” Admiral Barnett elucidated coolly, “you cheated.”

“Respectively,” Kirk shot back, “you wouldn’t accuse me of cheating unless you know something I don’t. The test’s rigged, isn’t it? I pretty much figured that out after I failed it the second time. Follow-up research into four years of proceeding failures that I carried out in my own time, only confirmed what I already suspected. You programmed it to be unwinnable. Given the available parameters, there’s no way of saving the _Koboyashi Maru_ , its crew and passengers. So the only way to win is to alter the parameters.”

“I fail to see how that is relevant to these proceedings.”

“Don’t you? Allow me to enlighten you, Commander. If I’m right, if my assumptions and research are correct, then the test itself is a cheat.”

“Your argument preludes the possibility of a no-win scenario.”

“I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

“Then not only have you violated the rules,” the commander informed calmly, “you have failed to understand the principal lesson that is embedded with the test.”

“I abase myself before your superior knowledge. Please, enlighten me.”

“Gladly. A captain cannot cheat death. The inevitable must be met with as much skill and resolution an attainable goal. The objective of must be to preserve and protect as much as one can. That is the captain’s task. That is the task of whoever is forced to take the _Koboyashi Maru_ test. To achieve what can be achieved when survivability is no longer an option. To achieve – not to evade.”

Kirk replied hastily, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Maybe you just don’t like the fact that I beat your test.”

“I am Vulcan. ‘Like’ is not a verb in our vernacular. I fail to comprehend your indignation,” the Vulcan confessed. “I’ve simply made the logical deduction then when considering your recent performance and your rationalization for the actions you took, that you are a liar.”

Kirk feigned astonishment. “What an idiot I am for taking that personally.”

“At last: something on which we are agreed. Management of a crisis situation depends on a captain’s certainty that the crew can and will follow orders, no matter how desperate or seemingly hopeless the circumstances in which they find themselves. By artificially altering those circumstances, you introduced an element that was outside the parameters of the test. As a consequence, those cadets under your ‘command’ had their own responses compromised. To satisfy your own base need to win at all costs, you were willing to sacrifice their performance ratings.”

A murmur rose from some of the among the assembled. Its tone was not complimentary.

“A crisis is by definition of a surprise. And a surprise by definition has no parameters. It is whatever it is the moment it announces itself. Consequently, any action taken to counter it is self-evidently valid which justifies _my_ actions. In a real-life crisis situation is often the actions taken outside accepted rules, regulations, and _parameters_ , that result-in success. Following the rules – going by the book, if you’ll excuse the cliché, is frequently the quickest path to disaster. Surprise needs to be met with surprise – not predictability. Not by a ship, by its crew, and not by its captain. Evidently, we espouse different approaches to crisis management, Commander. ‘Crisis Management’ – taken to face value. There’s no rule book for _that_.”

“Given that your experience in space travel is limited to the day of your birth and modest subsequent travel interval, you lack the experience necessary to make that judgement. You advocate a methodology based on assumption and not emotion, not familiarity and knowledge.”

“Have you ever taken the test, Commander Spork?”

“ _Spock_. As a Vulcan, I require no additional training to control my narcissism when making command decisions. They are and will always be invariably based on reason, logic and the facts as they exist in reality. Not as we might wish them to be in order to conveniently it some private notion of how the universe is supposed to operate.”

Another round of murmuring drifted through the assembled cadets and for the second time, Kirk was aware that he lost a point in the ongoing debate. Despite the Vulcan’s unassailable rhetorical brilliance, Kirk was not lacking for a comeback. He was about to propound it when an officer un-expectantly appeared and marched smartly up to the dais.

Handing a hard copy to the commandant, he leaned over and whispered in the admiral’s ear. This was followed by a short, tense exchange of words. As the intruding officer stepped back, Admiral Barnett rose from his chair. The eyes of other council members as well as those of every cadet in the amphitheater locked on the commandant.

“This is a Red Alert – all officers’ report to duty stations. All graduating cadets, report to your barracks’ officers in hanger one for immediate assignment. This is not a drill. I repeat – this is not a drill.”

The Academy commandant rose to his feet. His gaze swept quickly over the assembled anxious faces – all of which, he reflected, were far too young for what he was about to tell them.

“This hearing is at a recess until further notice. Assembly dismissed; attendees to comply with all applicable alert regulations.” Turning and moving fast, he exited out the back of the amphitheater. The rest of the council was close on his heels, talking animatedly to themselves.

A sea of brightly colored uniforms was set in motion as cadets hurried, under control but moving fast, towards the exits. No one lingered, wanting to be the last one out.

Except Kirk. The center of attention a moment earlier, he had been completely forgotten. Abandoned to himself between assembly and council dais, he gazed as if paralyzed at his rapidly emptying surroundings.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. He turned and faced McCoy and the two girls. “Come on, Jim. You heard the order.”

McCoy smiled. “Didn’t you hear the commandant? Recessed. School recess, but not the kind you remember. Let’s move.”

Nodding, Kirk followed his friends out into the corridor. There, they quickly found themselves caught up in the flow of uniforms. His expression darkened as he glanced over at McCoy. “Who was that pointy-eared bastard?”

McCoy shook his head. “I don’t know – but I like him.”

**ST**

The commandant’s voice boomed over the swirling mass of Starfleet personnel, not all of whom were human, or humanoid.

_“We have a crisis situation. We have received a distress call from Vulcan. Further details will be forthcoming, but as if this moment, you are all no longer cadets, you are Starfleet officers. I’m afraid that this year’s class, the graduating ceremonies will have to be postponed. Your official certifications will be placed in your files, which may be inspected at your leisure, once you are in space. I apologize in advance for omissions. All complaints due to oversights will be duly reviewed. Listen for your assignments. If you do not hear your name called, check with the nearest senior officer.”_

As they hurried along one line of shuttles, searching for a particular craft, names rang out around Kirk, McCoy, Jennifer, and Joanna as different squad leaders bellowed names and assignments.

“Blake – Newton…Counter – Odyssey…Gerace – Farragut…Mason – Enterprise…McCoy – Enterprise...”

There, that was the one they were looking for. The four of them headed for the thickset officer standing outside one of the numerous identical shuttles. Around them the litany of assignments continued to ring out.

“…McGrath – Potemkin…Davis – Kongo…Watson – Farragut…”

The four cadets halted before the officer who had called out the two girls and McCoy’s names. Behind the busy lieutenant, cadets and other personnel were filing into a waiting shutting.

Jennifer had grown exceedingly pale when she realized that she wasn’t going to be on the Enterprise with Joanna and McCoy.

McCoy frowned, as he heard Jennifer being assigned to the Farragut. That was not going to cut it. He was a senior medical officer and he was allowed to choose his own medical team. And Jennifer Watson was the best student he’s had and she has outdone herself on studying xenobiology.

McCoy marched up to the officer to confront him about Jennifer’s retransfer. He had to handle this professionally and not let his personal emotions get in the way.

“Excuse me, sir, but what ship was Cadet Watson being assigned too?”

“The _USS Farragut_ , Cadet.”

“With all due respect sir, but Cadet Watson is qualified to be retransferred to the _Enterprise_. She has the best score on xenobiology and the _Enterprise_ is going to need all the help she can get.”

“You’re not saying this because you know her personally, are you?” the officer asked.

“No sir. I’m saying this as her teacher,” McCoy stated as calmly as he could.

The officer did something on his padd and looked back up at McCoy. “It’s done. I hope she’s as good as you said she is. Good luck on your assignments.”

McCoy sighed with relief. “Thank you, sir.”

When McCoy turned to tell Jennifer that she was retransferred, he found a dazed Kirk being consoled by both Jennifer and Joanna. He walked up to them.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Jim,” Joanna started, “he’s on academic probation. Pending on the result of his hearing, he’s grounded, until the council rules on his case.”

McCoy let his hand returned to his friend’s shoulder, comforting this time.

“Jim,” McCoy murmured encouragingly, “they’ll rule in your favor. They’ve got to reinstate you if only you can verify the truth of your argument.” He looked behind him. Kirk was his friend, but the imperatives were calling. “Look Jim – we’ve gotta go.”

Kirk didn’t – couldn’t look at his friends. He barely managed to mumble, “Yeah –yeah go. Be safe.” He forced a half smile.

Torn between friend and future, McCoy pulled away and hurried off, with the two girls following him. Jennifer caught up with him. He looked at her. “Oh, and you’ve been retransferred to the _Enterprise_ ,” he stated. Jennifer forced a smile. She could feel his inner struggle.

“Thank you, Len. I do appreciate it. But, what about Jim? You can’t just leave him here, not any more than leaving me to work with the newly recruited officers I don’t even know.”

“She’s right, Doc. There’s got to be a way to smuggle him on,” Joanna put in.

They were halfway back to their assigned shuttle, when a thought hit him. Maybe it was when Joanna called him “Doc” that sparked his idea.

“What is it?” Jenni asked, curiously.

“You girls go ahead and try and stull that shuttle. I’ll be right back, hopefully with Jim. I’ve got an idea that might just get him on board.”

The two girls glanced at each other with a smile and rushed off to their shuttle; while McCoy went the opposite direction to find Jim.


	4. Welcome aboard the Enterprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. I promise the next chapter will be quicker.   
> Here's a nice long chapter to excuse my lateness for not updating sooner.

Kirk spun around angrily, as the hand grabbed him. Ready to hit out at anything, he was drawing back a fistful of frustration when he recognized McCoy.

“What – Bones, what are you doing?” He nodded past the doctor. “Your shuttle’s waiting. I thought you’d be…”

McCoy was tugging at him. “I told the girls to stull it for me. Now shut up and come with me.”

Too numbed by the circumstances that had befallen on him to object, Kirk allowed himself to be dragged along.

**ST**

It took McCoy no time at all to locate the section of the hanger he sought. Deemed critical material, the sizable stock of medical gear had been curtained off from less vital supplies. With his still bemused friend in tow, the doctor waited until a worker departed pushing a pallet piled high with stores.

Quickly McCoy scanned the contents of several small refrigerated satchels until he found the one he was looking for. Actually, it was not the one he was looking for, but given that they had no time to work their way through the considerable stock of equipment, it would have to do. That was what a physician operating under time constraints and in an emergency situation was trained to do, he told himself as he unsealed the container and sorted through its contents.

Kirk’s attention shifted back and forth between his friend’s frenetic searching and the bustle of men and machines on the other side of the translucent shielding curtain. “Bones, what are we doing here? What’re you after?”

“I’m looking for a solution to a problem in a solution. I couldn’t just leave you there, looking all pitiful. Ah –this’ll do.”

Pulling a cartridge out of the container he had opened, he gripped it between his teeth as he nipped the packaging off a hypospray and shoved the tiny cylinder into the open breech. The delivery mechanism automatically activated the contents of the cartridge – which he promptly jammed against his friend’s neck.

“OW! What the hell was that?” Kirk grabbed at the hypo, but McCoy had already pulled it back and was in the process of disposing it.

“You’re gonna start to loose vision in your left eye.”

Almost before the doctor finished the explanation, Kirk found himself leaning forward and repeatedly blinking the indicated orb. “Yeah, I already am – have.” Abruptly, he stood up straight, arched his back, and then bent forward anew. “What’d you do to me?”

“Oh, and you’re gonna get a really bad headache,” McCoy informed him.

On cue, Kirk grabbed his head with both hands and cringed, closing his eyes tight. “God, what’s happening?” Straightening, he tried to turn and nearly fell.

Anticipating his friend’s loss of balance – along with the loss of sight in one eye, fading cerebral capacity and a delightfully varied assortment of other incapacitating ailments – McCoy grabbed him to keep him from falling.

“I just shot you with a vaccine designed to prevent the viral infection caused by the bite of the Melvarian mud flea. The fact that there aren’t any Melvarian mud fleas within a hundred million light-years from here is irrelevant. It’s the side effects that are important. Since the vaccine is derived from an emulsion made from the internal organs of the flea itself, a mild, but easily treatable case of the infection is the unavoidable result. Without getting further into the xenobiological specifics – you can ask Jennifer about it later, if you’re curious – the short version is that you’ll be feeling the symptoms of the disease for about an hour.”

Consciously deranged, Kirk gazed an open-mouthed at his friend, even as he had to lean on him for support. “You injected me with an alien _mud flea_ virus?”

Getting his body under one of his friend’s arms, McCoy started to haul him away from the medical storage site, straining with the effort required to keep them both moving forward.

“Yeah – you owe me one.”

They barely made it on time. A klaxon was sounding and lights on the shuttle indicated it was running through final countdown procedures prior to lift off. Exerting himself to the utmost, McCoy heaved them both toward the boarding ramp.

The junior officer who intercepted them had been working without a break ever since the Red Alert had sounded. He was in no mood for an argument and no intention of delaying the small ship’s departure. But he had never seen anyone who looked as bad as James T. Kirk did at that moment.

“Good lord, what happened to _him_?” the boarding officer’s gaze dropped to the cadet’s hands. Both had swollen to a degree that suggested advanced case of highly localized elephantiasis.

Struggling to keep his friend vertical, McCoy spoke without hesitation. “He’s suffering from an inflamed epididymis complicated by excessive swelling of the ego region of the cerebral cortex. Got exposed to gram-negative bacterium in the lab. I was writing out the order to send him to the hospital when the alert sounded.”

The officer took a long step backward. “Is it…contagious?”

McCoy shook his head. “Wholly internalized, transmitted is only via directed fluid exchange, no danger to anyone else. He should come through fine if the fever he’s suffering from now doesn’t boil his brains.” Kirk’s eyes widened as they snapped to the face of the man holding him up.

Pulling a small cylindrical instrument from a breast pocket, the officer ran it the length of the slumping cadet’s body. “Kirk, James T.” He quickly checked the boarding manifest for the shuttle behind him. “He’s not cleared for duty on board the _Enterprise_.” Raising his gaze, he confronted McCoy uncertainly. “In fact, according to records, he’s not cleared for duty anywhere. It says here that he’s -“

McCoy interrupted him. “Look, we’re operating under Red Alert conditions, and I don’t have time to argue. I _am_ cleared for duty on the _Enterprise_ , and Starfleet Medical Regulations translates that the treatment and transport of a patient to be determined at the discretion of his attending physician which is _me_. Since I’m assigned to this ship; so’s he, even if temporarily. Check your regs’, medical supersedes academic dispensation. It’s not like I’m trying to sneak my girlfriend on board. He may be under temporary suspension, but he’s not first year – he’s a qualified junior officer, and they’ll find something for him to do, once he’s recovered. But as the physician providing treatment, I can’t abandon him. He comes with me.”

The doctor paused for emphasis.

“Or, would you like to explain to Captain Pike why the _Enterprise_ warped into a crisis situation without one of its senior medical officers?” He glanced pointedly at the other man’s ident badge.

Lowering his head, he jerked the stylus he was holding toward the open shuttle portal. “As you were.”

“As _you_ were.” McCoy started tugging his friend up the ramp. “Been eating more than usual; cadet?”

Kirk’s cheeks bulged. “I’d appreciate it Bones, if you didn’t mention food for a while.”

"Don't worry - only inclination to general nausea is muted by the inflammation of your..." he lowered his voice to a whisper as he continued. Kirk's eyes widened.

"Inflammation of my what...?"

"Shut up," McCoy hissed as they neared the top of the ramp, "and keep walking. Try to help me, Jim. Make your legs work."

Head lolling, Kirk goggled up at him. "I have legs?"

As soon as they were on board, they had no difficulty of finding seats, despite the lateness of their arrival. They ended up sitting behind Jennifer and Joanna. Sensing that her friends finally arrived, Jennifer turned and gave McCoy a questioning look.

"What the hell took you guys so long?" she whispered. McCoy shrugged.

"Long explanations," he muttered.

Despite feeling ill, Jim noticed that both Joanna and Jennifer have made it to work on the _Enterprise_. He turns to McCoy. "What about your girlfriend?" he smiled.

McCoy glared at him. "Shut up," he muttered.

"Oh, and one more thing, Bones?"

"What's that?" McCoy was pressed back into his launch seat, the usual sweat begining to bead up on his neck and forehead.

Kirk managed another smile. "I may throw up on you."

Describing a smooth arc towards its destination, the shuttle curved into the plane of the base and slowed as it neared the great ship's stern. Greeted by an open, waiting port, the shuttle's pilot brought his craft to a smooth touchdown inside the ship's docking bay. Airlock doors closed behind it as he cut impulse power to the shuttle's drive. The taxi craft rocked slightly as a gush of atmosphere pressurized the bay. As soon as the all-clear sounded, the passengers disembarked. Kirk and McCoy were the last to leave, but the girls waited for them outside the shuttle.

Fortunately, for the struggling doctor, his patient was rapidly regaining his strength. "Bones," Kirk muttered weakly, "thanks for getting me on board. But I don't feel right, I feel like I'm leaky."

McCoy still had alertness and energy enough to see Spock heading their direction. "Oh look - the pointy-eared bastard."

Engrossed in the readout he was holding, the commander did not look up at them. By the time the Vulcan's gaze lifted, McCoy had managed to wrestle Kirk into a side corridor, with the two girls following close behind.

**ST**

In the main medical bay, technicians and support personnel were completing last minute setups. There was always something to be stowed, a report to be forwarded, instruments to be placed in readiness for emergencies that hopefully would not materialize.

As they entered the med bay, Joanna pulled her best friend into a quick hug. "Good luck, Jenni. I'll be around. I've gotta go down to the Engineering department. I'm sure they could use my help down there."

"Thanks Jo. Be careful down there," Jennifer replied. Joanna turns to McCoy, who was in the process of sitting Kirk down on a med bed.

"Also Doctor McCoy," she started. The two men turned to her. "Be careful with Jenni and don't break her heart. I will kick your ass if you do." Jennifer rolled her eyes.

"Go easy on him, Jo. He has no intention too, right Len?" Jennifer replied, winking at the doctor.

McCoy caught her inside joke. "I'll try not to. And you be careful down in Engineering. It could get dangerous down there."

"Not any more dangerous than being in Med Bay," Joanna shot back playfully. "Ok, gotta go." And with that, Joanna left Jennifer, McCoy and Jim; and Jim was complaining.

"Bones, when is this gonna stop, it's killing me..."

"What is?" McCoy replied phlegmatically. "Pain, or the fact that you're not looking as perfect as you usually think you are? It'll all be over in half an hour, tops." Leaning closer, he lowered his voice so that passing personnel could not overhear him, but Jennifer could.

"Now listen; I can't sit around and mollycoddle you. Both Jennifer and I have work to do. I have to secure my portion of this bay for departure, check in with my colleagues, see to it the techs know where their stations are, and a hundred other details. Remember our deal, you're my new candy striper. Stay on the medical deck and out of sight, as much as possible, till we get you back in a couple of days. Got it? Anybody questions your specialty or your "training", tell 'em you're an assistant anesthesiologist assigned to work directly with me." He smiled sardonically. "I've seen you put people to sleep just talking about yourself, so I know you can pull this off."

Kirk was un-characteristically subdued. "Bones, I don't know what to say." McCoy smiled.

"Don't thank me, thank the girls. They're the ones who argued and wanted me to smuggle you on board," McCoy explained. Kirk glanced at Jennifer, and smiled at her.

"Thanks." She returned the smile.

"No problem, Kirk. Len knows how much you mean to him, as well as me."

McCoy smiled at the exchange between Jim and Jennifer. Maybe it wasn't so bad that Jennifer got to meet Jim after all.

"That'll do." McCoy's grin widened. "I'll be back to check on you as soon as I can. As I said, the symptoms should all be gone within a little while and you should feel completely like yourself again. Meanwhile, try to keep out of sight and out of trouble."

McCoy started to leave, stopped himself and left his friend with a final admonition, in which Jennifer had to smirk, having learned of Jim's reputation at the academy.

"And Jim?"

"Yes Bones?"

"Stay away from my nurses, especially Lt. Jennifer Watson."

Then McCoy was out the open portal and heading for the main surgery. Kirk could hear him railing and complaining, until a closing door finally stifled the doctor's rant.

He looked up at Jennifer and smiled.

"Don't worry about me, Nurse Watson. Just take care of Bones, for me, will ya?"

"Don't worry, Jim. I'm too in love with him for him to ever go through that experience again. His heart is safe with me," Jennifer promised.

**ST**

Ever the solicitous doctor, and hoping that he could divert the med tech's attention away from his "patient", McCoy stepped over.

"Oh good, Jim, you're awake. How 'ya feel?" Kirk's moaning in pain ensured everyone would remember him, but before McCoy could berate his friend for overreacting, he noticed the size of his hands. "Good god, man!"

"What?" Kirk knew something was wrong, especially if Bones had reacted so strongly. He lifted his hands up; they had swollen up to elephantine proportions. "What the hell's this?"

"A reaction to the vaccine, dammit!"

McCoy was furiously scanning Kirk, while the cadet was re-listening to the broadcast. The readings were not good; now his friend had become his patient.

Kirk whirled, and managed a stride and a half before nearly knocking down McCoy. The doctor glared at him, started to say something, then changed tact as he saw the look on his friend's face.

"What the hell are you d-?"

"Something's not right," Kirk shot back at him. "In fact, if I'm right, it's real wrong." He grabbed at McCoy's arm. "Come with me, Bones - hurry!"

"What?" The doctor jerked free of the younger man's grasp. "Jim, I said low profile! That means you should..."

But Kirk was already out the door and moving fast, leaving him behind. Flustered, and fearing for his friend, McCoy rushed after him.

"Jim - slow down! Wait a goddamned minute! Jim, I'm not kidding - we need to keep your heartrate down!"

Kirk located a computer interface. "Computer, locate crewmember and communications specialist Uhura!"

" _As an officer, Lieutenant Uhura's location is privatized unless..."_

"DO IT!" He forced himself to take a deep breath. "Analyze urgency in request tone and calibrate accordingly."

The ship responded without hesitation. _"Intimations of exigency have been analyzed and their source has been noted for the record. Lieutenant Uhura is presently at communications monitoring station twelve, deck four."_

"I haven't seen a reaction this severe since med school!" Kirk heard McCoy mutter.

"We're flying into a trap!"

Fumbling in his med kit for the correct medicine, the doctor looked up and noticed that his patient was gone.

Racing down the corridor, McCoy rounded a turn just in time to see the lift doors shut in front of Kirk. The doctor caught up in time to meet the younger man's eyes, but not in time to make it in the lift with him. He took a step back, forced to wait for another lift to arrive.

" _Dammit, Jim!"_

 _You try to help someone,_ McCoy thought to himself. _But if the patient won't listen to his doctor, then he sure as hell is well likely listen to himself_.

**ST**

Communications twelve was occupied by a mix of junior officers and ensigns all preoccupied with their current assignments. That did not prevent several of them from looking up curiously as Kirk burst in.

Nearly out of breath, McCoy arrived in the entryway. Spotting Kirk racing to Uhura's station, the doctor caught up with him.

"Are you out of your mind? What is going on here?" Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers around Kirk's upper right arm. "Maybe, just maybe, if we can get you back to the sickbay without being intercepted, I can..."

Kirk met his gaze. "Bones, trust me..."

McCoy didn't hear him. "Are you trying to get us both discharged from service? On our first day of duty? I don't my name going into the books, but not attached to a record like that!"

Quickly thinking about the tail-end of the girls' conversation before his trial, he needed to tell McCoy. Even though he's only known Jennifer for a couple of days, he could already tell how much his friend could benefit from having someone like Jennifer as his partner. And with their exchange earlier, Jim could also tell that Jennifer was serious about wanting to start a relationship with McCoy; he knew how much she cared about his friend.

"I'm trying to save you and your girlfriend's ass!"

McCoy stiffened, and regarded his friend. "Wait-what girlfriend? I don't have a -"

"Yes, you do, Bones. You just don't realize that yet. You were taken three years ago." McCoy frowned.

"Who-?" He would've known if he had a girlfriend for the past three years - wouldn't he?"

"Stop being so thick! You know exactly who - Jennifer Watson!" Kirk shot back.

McCoy froze; his mind went crazy all of a sudden. Where the hell was Jennifer was, anyway? Not like he needed to keep track of her, she was an adult and a Starfleet officer after all, she could handle herself. But she was young, and he wanted to keep her safe, he promised her friend that much. But he'd lost track of her when he went after his friend. "How-?" McCoy managed. Jim rolled his eyes.

"I overheard Joanna teasing Jennifer about her falling heads over heels for you right before my trial," Jim said, with a smirk. "You're a lucky bastard, to have someone like Jennifer to be that devoted to you. She's serious about you, you know. And I know I said a similar thing to Lt. Watson, but I'm going to repeat it to you; I will kick your ass if you break her heart," Jim added in a serious tone, telling McCoy that he wasn't kidding around.

"Dammit Jim, stand still!" He injected Kirk and released him.

"Ow, stop it!"

"And stay out of our business," McCoy snapped.

"You and Jennifer are my friends; so whatever you guys do, is my business! I care about you guys and Joanna, of course," Kirk shot back. McCoy rolled his eyes, but he let the conversation drop.

Racing down the crowded section, and without waiting a response from McCoy, Kirk kept looking for the one person he knew would confirm his conclusion. Finally, he located Uhura.

"Sorry. Listen, I need to talk to you."

She gaped at him in astonishment. "No way."

"You gotta listen to me."

"No!" she shot back. "I don't 'gotta' listen to you, James Kirk. You - you shouldn't even be on this ship! How did you get on?"

"Later." He moved as close to her as he dared. "The transmission from the Klingon prison planet - what exactly..."

Kirk might be insane, but he wasn't kidding. She shook her head. She stared at him. "Oh my god! What happened to your hands?"

He had to get her to understand _now_. "Who?"

"Your hands..."

Behind him, McCoy was dividing his attention between his friend, the communications officer he was badgering, his medical scanner, and the portal that somehow still remained devoid of a security detail.

"Who is responsible for the Klingon attack? Was the ship woluam?"

Uhura was shaking her head slowly and frowning. She could tell from his inflections that Kirk was deadly serious. "Was the ship what?"

Kirk turned to McCoy. "What's happening to my mouth?"

"You got numb tongue?" the doctor asked.

Horrified that something so stupid could stop Uhura from understanding, Kirk asked, " _numb tongue_?"

"I can fix that," McCoy promised.

"Was the ship what?" Uhura asked, concerned that she would never understand Kirk.

Trying to form the word slowly and clearly, Kirk asked, "Wolumn?"

"What?"

"Wolum?"

This time the communications specialist looked at his lips, seeing how he was forming the word. "Romulan?"

He nodded urgently. "Yea."

"Yes."

"Yes!"


	5. Jennifer's determination and McCoy's promotion

McCoy and Uhura both tried to catch up to Kirk, but the cadet was moving too fast them – mentally and physically. By the time they succeeded in closing the gap between them, he was already bursting out of a lift.

Entering the bridge, Kirk rushed toward the command chair. “Captain Pike! The energy surge near Vulcan…”

A startled Pike stared at him in disbelief. “Cadet Kirk? How did you…?”

The lift disgorged McCoy and Uhura. “It’s my fault, sir.” In race from communications twelve to the bridge, the doctor had resigned himself to one of the shortest careers in the history of Starfleet medical. Too bad, though. He would have loved to enhanced Jennifer’s nursing skills and work her charm on Xenobiology.

“I brought him on board. At the time I felt it would be a harmless and unnoticed subterfuge. Given the Red Alert situation, I thought Starfleet could use every available hand. I gave him a-.”

Pike broke in tellingly. “I don’t want to know _how_ , I want to know why. Not why you’re on board, but why you’re standing in front of me right now, looking like someone who just made himself coming. And,” he added in a low, dangerous voice. “It better be good.”

Kirk steadied himself. “I checked the complete available scientific description of the energy surge that was reported near Vulcan to Starfleet’s reception of the request for assistance. The parameters are almost identical to a similar surge that has detected just before the _Kelvin_ was attacked by a Romulan ship more than twenty years ago, the day I was born, sir. Furthermore, that was also described as a lightning storm in space. You know that sir. I read your dissertation. That ship which had formidable and advanced weaponry was never seen or heard from again. The _Kelvin_ attack took place on the edge of Klingon space. And at twenty-three hours last night, forty-seven Klingon warbirds were destroyed by Romulans, sir. And it was reported that the Romulans were in one ship, one massive ship.”

Pike's expression darkened to match his tone. "And you know of this Klingon attack, how?"

All eyes turned immediately to the heretofore silent communications officer. "Sir, I intercepted and translated the message myself. Kirk's report is accurate.

Kirk held his position. "We're warping into a trap, sir. The Romulans are waiting for us, I promise you that."

A troubled Pike digested this, then switched his attention to his science officer. "The cadet's logic is sound. Lieutenant Uhura's record in xenolinguistics in unmatched in recent records, Captain. It would be wise to accept her conclusions."

Turning, he ordered the communications officer. "Scan Vulcan space. Check for any transmissions in Romulan."

"Sir, I'm not sure I can distinguish the Romulan language from Vulcan."

"What about you?" Pike asked. "Can you speak Romulan, Cadet..."

"...Uhura. All three dialects, sir."

"Uhura, relieve the lieutenant."

**ST**

While the crew was listening and waiting for any of the new fleet to respond; McCoy had moved to stand beside Kirk. Both men regarded the screen.

"See?" Leaning close to his friend, the doctor dropped his voice to a whisper. "They’re there, they've arrived. I shouldn't have just given you a dose of mud-flea vaccine - I should've put you under a general anesthetic. It would have been better..."

"Bones." Kirk had not taken his eyes from the forward monitor. "Wait."

One of the blue dots had vanished from the screen.

"Captain, we're receiving a transmission on the distress frequency." Uhura worked at her console. "I can't wait- something's coming through. I'm acquiring only intermittent bits of contact, nothing complete."

“Let me hear whatever you’ve got,” Pike replied grimly.

She transferred all incoming transmissions to the bridge speakers. None of it was clean, but there was no mistaken the gist of what they were hearing: bursts of screaming voices, cries of despair, orders underscored by hopelessness. The crackling, static-marred bursts of discontinuous distress were accompanied by the quiet disappearance of another blue dot from the view screen.

“There are only four ships,” a somehow dispassionate Spock declared. “Now three…”

Pike’s voice reverberated throughout the bridge. “Red Alert! Ready all weapons. Mister Sulu, get us to Vulcan, _now_ – maximum warp!”

There was no sense of forward motion. One moment the _Enterprise_ was alone in the vastness of interstellar space – and then it had dropped into the subsidiary realm where reality was deformed by mathematics into a class of physics that would have delighted Charles Dodgson.

“Arrival at Vulcan in five seconds,” Sulu reported calmly. “Four, three two…”

“EVASIVE!” Pike roared.

“ON IT, SIR!” was Sulu’s immediate response.

The captain’s command was unnecessary. Having dropped out of warp directly in front of the flaring disintegrating remains of the _Defiant_ , Sulu had responded instantly and reflexively to avoid the impending collision. Wrenched sideways on impulse power at the command of her helmsman, the _Enterprise_ shuddered, but quickly steadied herself.

Chaos was in orbit around Vulcan.

Spock’s voice was controlled as ever, but he was speaking faster than usual. “No identifiable registry on the ship. It’s massive! Energy signatures, deployed weapon systems, design – all unknown.”

“Get Starfleet Command on subspace!” Pike demanded. Uhura’s response was immediate and disheartening.

“Negative! All out system transmissions are subject to severe interruption emanating the vicinity of Vulcan. And there’s something else, sir. I think I’ve located the source of the general interference. I detect the signature – very advanced, but identifiable – of a plasma drill operating in the atmosphere.”

**ST**

The stream of torpedoes from the hostile vessel was unending. As the _Enterprise_ shifted position, one of the lethal tracking explosive passed directly between her engine nacelles. A second decanted nearby. Overwhelmed shields bustled beneath the unprecedented power.

Secondary explosions tore through the impacted decks. Crew members were thrown into the walls, the floor, and the ceiling as the artificial gravity was temporarily distorted.

In Sickbay, McCoy was slammed into a wall and pinned there until gravity was stabilized. He briefly wondered where Jennifer was, and if she was okay; he hadn’t seen her in his Sickbay since Jim ran out like a crazed lunatic. When he dropped back down to his feet, he noted with professional detachment that a gash had been open in one eye. He’ll have to take care of that later; it really didn’t bother him and it wasn’t going to effect his duties as a doctor. Of course, if he knew Jennifer like he thought he did, he knew that Jenni was going to have a fit and fuss over it the next time they saw each other.

Flames leaped from a rip in one wall. That would not be allowed to continue consuming precious atmosphere. Either the section’s fire suppressors would put it out, or it would be snuffed when the area was sealed and the remaining air was evacuated. McCoy stumbled toward the exit.

A dazed department technician was standing by the edge of the blaze and staring off into the distance. Grabbing him, McCoy looked at him into the man’s face, and talked to him until the tech finally responded. Then the doctor spun him around and shoved hard.

“Get outta here before the compartment is sealed! You want to die unbreathing?”

As comprehension dawned, the man nodded, whirled and ran. In the wrong direction. Cursing under his breath, McCoy started after him, only to find himself cut off as a translucent section of emergency response barrier slammed downward, its base forming a permanent seal with the deck. Halting and turning back, the tech stared wide-eyed at McCoy. Then the severely damaged wall behind him crumbled like foil, shattering into pieces as it was sucked away into the vacuum of space – along with the doomed technician.

There was nothing McCoy could do. He had a glimpsed that look of terror before, but only in training vids. Seeing it in person…

Mouth set, he turned away. The ship continued to shudder and tremble around him. There would be other casualties, other wounded. As someone whose skills were needed elsewhere, he could not linger and mourn. The crewman he had tried to help was already dead. The doctor hurried off in search of an intact sickbay. McCoy hoped to God that Jennifer was alive and alright. He didn’t know what would happen if he lost her as well. She had somehow taken a hold of his heart (more than Jocelyn could ever have), just after talking and hanging out with her for not even a full 24 hours of meeting Jennifer; he was determined to find her and protect her.

**ST**

Jennifer jerked herself awake. It took her a moment to figure out where she was and why it was so dark. She knew she was lying on her side and she watched with a blurred vision, people in white rushing all around her. She then noticed someone in a red uniform rushing towards her.

“Jenni! Jen, are you okay?” The blurry vision of her best friend, Joanna came in her sight. Although she was glad that Joanna was okay, or at least seemed okay, one name escaped from her worriedness and hazed mind.

“Len?” she croaked. Joanna knelt down to help her friend sit up. Her hand froze on Jennifer’s shoulder.

“Jenni, it’s me, Joanna, not…”

“I know who you are and I’m glad you’re okay. But where is Len…Leonard?” Jennifer tried again.

“Who?” Jenni sighed.

“Where is Doctor McCoy?” she finally demanded, fear and panic starting to cloud her judgement.

J0anna thankfully noticed that her friend was on the verge of a breakdown, if she didn’t do something to calm her down. Jennifer really did love that man and had every right to worry about him. Joanna collected a hypospray from a passing nurse to help Jennifer with her blurriness and panic-stricken mind. She really didn’t know how to answer that question, but she answered it anyway.

“Um, I’m not sure where he is. But I’m positive he’s okay,” Joanna answered, forcing Jennifer to use the hypo.

Almost immediately, her vision finally cleared up and she felt a whole lot calmer.

She knew that she had a gash on her forehead, but it didn’t bother her, that much as the hypo did wonders on her body. Taking her friend’s word that Len may be okay; because she didn’t know where the good doctor was when the ship was suddenly attacked.

With the help of her friend, Jennifer stood up and began her duty as Doctor McCoy’s Head Nurse. Joanna stayed close to her friend’s side, while helping with the minor wounded; she did know basic medical skills thanks to Jenni, who forced her to take a few classes with her. However, she was mostly concerned about Jenni refusing to take better care of herself, before helping others. But Joanna knew her friend. She knew that inside, Jenni was still emotionally upset and worried for her beloved doctor.

“Jenni,” Joanna started, as she watched her friend start to patch up yet another officer. “I’m being serious here. You need to take better care of yourself, before you help more officers!” Joanna insisted.

“I’m fine! There are officers more seriously wounded than I am!” Jennifer snapped.

Joanna sighed; she’d forgotten how stubborn Jennifer could be, especially when it had something to do with medical situations. She knew she had no choice but to use Doctor McCoy to get through to Jennifer. She grabbed her friend’s shoulder, and Jennifer spun around.

“The hell you are. Look, Lt. Watson, you’re as pale as a ghost. I know you. You’re emotionally worried about Doctor McCoy and not knowing where he is. But if he was here, he could relieve you from duty, to take better care of yourself.”

**ST**

_“Doctor Puri, this is Acting Captain Spock. Report.”_

Shaking slightly, the hand of Leonard McCoy slapped down a wall panel to acknowledge the call. Around him swirled a sea of blood, confusion, protruding bones, exposed organs, tendons dangling like dark strings and a dedicated, but overwhelmed coterie of medical personnel struggling to put it all back into its proper place, despite missing supplies dysfunctional equipment.

“McCoy here. Doctor Puri is dead. In lieu of orders, I’ve been doing what I can.”

_“Then you have just inherited his responsibilities as chief medical officer, Doctor McCoy. Prepare all bays for mass triage.”_

“Aye sir. I’ve already instigated procedures on all decks to…”

The science officer interrupted him. _“I’m not concerned with internal operations, Doctor, as I am confident you by now have them well in hand. We must prepare ourselves for a possible influx of refugees from Vulcan.”_

McCoy hesitated before speaking. “Our facilities are stretched to the limit, Commander.”

_“Get the less seriously wounded back on duty as quickly as possible. Try to make some room.”_

McCoy ground his teeth. Behind him, the un-sedated were moaning and occasionally screaming. “I’ll do the best I can – _sir_.”

Though it was the acting captain’s place to terminate the transmission, the doctor was the one who cut it off. There were lives to be saved and bodies to be made whole again, and he had no time to debate the logic of what he needed to do. If “Acting Captain” Spock objected, he could file a formal complaint with Starfleet Medical Operations when they got back to Earth.

The Vulcan had called for mass triage. McCoy was fine with that. He had every intention of prioritizing.

**ST**

Every sickbay including Medical Central was full to overflowing. In addition to the Elders, a number of other citizens of Vulcan had managed to survive the catastrophe that had eradicated their homeworld. Most have been working in bases on T'Khul, the Vulcan systems third world, and had been beamed aboard the _Enterprise_ , subsequent to Vulcan's destruction.

Bewildered and ignorant of the details that had orphaned them, many were traumatized in ways that humans could not understand. It was left to the Elders to mind-meld where possible and to see to their treatment with appropriate medications when mind-meld proved insufficiant.

In the main sickbay, both Doctor McCoy and Head Nurse Jennifer were working on their patients, and they have yet to have a conversation or even acknowledged each other, as they were busy and Jennifer, slightly overwhelmed. But they were aware that the other was alive and at the very least, seemed okay.

At the moment, Jennifer was in the process of attending to Jim, and helping him to wrap his hand from his harsh landing on the platform. It was unusually quiet, with the occasion of moans and whimpers from their patients that surrounded them.

Jim noticed, with a frown and a little too late that Jennifer was not herself. Her hands were shaky, her face was pale, and that she was unusually quiet. Jim risked a look into her eyes. Now he knew the reason. She was still visibly emotionally shaken and upset.

Jennifer was startled out of her reverie when she heard Jim started to talk to her.

"Jennifer, have you spoken to Bones at all?" he asked quietly. Jennifer shook her head.

"No, I haven't. It's been too chaotic and busy for me to have a word with Len," she replied in the same volume. She sounded tired too. That was not good for the Head Nurse, Jim thought.

"You need to see him. You're exhausted, and you look like you're about to collapse on me. Go see him." Jim insisted.

"I'm fine, Jim." Jim frowned, not believing her, but choose not to argue.

Near the end of wrapping Jim's hand, the hypo that Joanna had given her awhile back was starting to wear off. Jennifer suddenly felt a little too overwhelmed with emotion and not having been able to talk to her doctor at all since the whole crisis thing happened with Vulcan began.

Jim curses as he catches his friend and nurse with his injured hand. Knowing and feeling that Doctor McCoy was just behind him, Jim turns slightly.

"Bones, Nurse Watson is in trouble. Help me with her," he hisses.

McCoy looks up from scanning a patient.

Hearing the words "Watson" and "in trouble", McCoy reacted immediately. He quickly passes his current patient to a nurse. He rushes around the biobed that jim was sitting on and took a good look at the now unconscious Jennifer. She was slightly paler than normal and that she had a gash on her forehead that had yet been taken care of. He shook his head.

"What the hell happened to her?" he demanded, using his Doctor's voice. Jim visibly flinched. He had never seen McCoy react like this, so strongly to anyone before. Why was Jennifer Watson so different? He had to answer carefully.

"I honestly don't know, Bones. But I have a feeling she was feeling emotionally overwhelmed."

McCoy's eyes widened slightly. Shit. "She was worried about me, wasn't she?"

**ST**

For the second time today, Jennifer jerked herself awake. She knew she was lying on something soft, a bio bed? No, she thought. This material was softer than the medical beds.

She winced at the sudden bright light, shining right in her pupils. She knew that someone was making sure she didn’t have a concussion or any other injury to her head.

“Ugh,” she groaned, “turn that light off; you’re giving me a headache.”

As requested, the light was replaced by the worried, but quickly turning to relief faces of Leonard McCoy and Jim Kirk.

“Thank God. You gave us a quite a scare, Nurse Watson,” Jim said.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been more professional. I was being stupid.”

McCoy shook his head. “Don’t worry, Jennifer. If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the first person to have collapsed from being overwhelmed and overworked,” he said gently.

“I know, but I’m the Head Nurse. I should’ve known better.”

With the men’s help, Jennifer found herself sitting on a couch. She glanced around the room. They must be in Dr. McCoy’s office.

Without really thinking, Jennifer wrapped her arms around McCoy and pulled him into a hug. McCoy hesitated slightly, but he let himself relax and returned the hug. Neither of them noticed that Jim had left quietly to give tor them a little privacy. God only knows how much they needed their alone time if only a few minutes.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Len. You don’t know how scared I was, not knowing you were safe and alive.” McCoy gently pulled himself out of Jennifer’s embrace and found his reflection in her bright blue eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, kid. I’m not going anywhere.” Jennifer pouted.

“I’m not a kid, Doctor. I’m a certified Starfleet Officer and the CMO’s Head Nurse.”

“You’re still fourteen years younger than me; that makes you a kid in my eyes.” Jennifer shook her head, with an amused look.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that right?” McCoy smiled at their light banter.

“Damn right I am.”


End file.
